


Hand on My Heart

by Elliott_Fletcher



Series: Observations of Intimacy [20]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Songwriting, first 'i love you'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9340814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elliott_Fletcher/pseuds/Elliott_Fletcher
Summary: "Daichi, what is this?" Suga asks, but he sees the guitar, sees the lamplight in Daichi's eyes and the sweat turning his white collar grey. (He doesn't even need to hear the music to see the love).





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's no blockbuster movie . . . but, uh, this is the next step for me. I'll get there. For now, I will shout from the rooftops my love of daisuga and my thanks to those who believe in me. Also, this fic is written proof that no one should ever ask me to write a love song, ever. Un-broken-up-song-lyrics are in the end notes.

"Daichi, what is this?" Suga asks, but he sees the guitar, sees the lamplight in Daichi's eyes and the sweat turning his white collar grey. (He doesn't even need to hear the music to see the love).

"I'm, uh — shit," Daichi shifts away with the uneasy smile of someone who has too much to say (and not the means or eloquence to say it right). Suga spins his desk chair one too many times to face Daichi, the chair whirring beneath him. He squints at the stretch of Daichi's skin — a low brown in the air shaded by overcast and sheets of rain and the curtains that fall over both windows. Daichi tunes the sticky pegs, lingering on each string as it swoops to the right pitch. He stops the sound with his palm, and his mouth fumbles around few words: “I wrote something . . . ?"

Suga raises his eyebrows with the lilt in his question, "Are you sure?" He adjusts the lamp on his desk so it casts against Daichi, and as he fixes the head, the shadows climb and fall like creatures rising into the night (though it is afternoon — just a grey one that plays at erasing the colour of life).

Daichi rakes his fingers through his hair, then hastily attempts to flatten it. Suga toes his chair to the bed until their knees press together, and he holds Daichi still in the places that fidget most — he removes his hands from his hair and back to the guitar, pulling the checkered strap over his head like a veil, and Daichi ducks his head. When he looks up, they are even closer. "I'm sure," Daichi tells Suga's unwavering eyes.

And then he starts to play: quiet chords that hush through the room; knuckles black and orange with each strum, light still but dancing across his every movement. Suga watches Daichi watch his own hands, lets his breath lull into the rhythm of _buh-deeh-duh-doh-oh-oh_ , and the trickle of melodic plucking between each heartwarming chord. Suga closes his eyes and listens to the tapping, the whirring of metal strings on blunt nails, the soundtrack of rain hitting the steel-roof above them. He caresses a hand over Daichi's shoulder and the damp cotton without opening his eyes, and he focuses all the emotion stirring within him into those five fingers.

Daichi jerks his shoulder, and Suga awakens, spine straightening under Daichi's ponderous gaze. It drifts along the curve of his jaw, the acne at his hairline, the dry lines on his lips. Suga's eyes flutter against the attention, but they observe the black and orange mutterings, the twitch of Daichi's lips. Suga wants them to open, to sing the words he's mouthing — to kiss him, maybe. Daichi lets the music dissolve, lets the silence rush in, and their eyes catch together. Six long moments, Suga waits, fingers brushing at Daichi's knee, eyes turned and bashful but always looking. Daichi lets out the breath that fills his shoulders wide, and with the rush of air, their eyes catch together and three words slip:

_(I love you)_

Daichi whispers, and then he sings, and Suga goes very still because he has lost all the breath within him.

" _Will you be the hand on my heart?_ " 

Suga nods.

" _. . . The breath on my face, gaze never apart?_ "

Suga tucks his knees to his chest, presses his palms to his stomach to calm the hot licks under his skin.

" _The smile on mine, and the fingers entwined?_ " Daichi hums for an interlude, each pitch unexpected but familiar, and he knows this is the same tune Daichi's whistled since freshman year. " _Will you be the hand on my heart?_ "

" _Will you keep my wishes whole? Will you make my heart feel full?_ " 

He bites his lips into his mouth and nods, and Daichi smiles to his guitar. They are both hardly breathing, entranced by the thrumming in the air and their nerves.

" _The last of you can finish me; each word of yours is also mine; all I ever want to see,_ " Daichi whispers like a kiss, fingers stilling over their notes and plucking just the highest ping of each chord. " _Is your eyes, bright, you shine —_ " He breathes deep, eyes flicking up to Suga, " _mine._ "

Daichi's gaze lingers when he sees the rim of tears on Suga's waterline and the brace of his hands against his stomach. Daichi's strumming slows, and he speaks, "Are you all right?"

(The tears start to fall, one by one, like a meteor shower, each leaving its trail).

"No," Suga clenches his shirt, eyebrows drawn closed, "Are you done yet?" The words sound almost . . . bitter.

Daichi's teeth ring, exposed to the air when his jaw slackens, but his hands still hit the same chords. They vibrate around the room, emptier without his undivided attention. He says without any voice, "You don't like it?"

Suga sobs and grabs Daichi's hand from the strings, the sound vanishing with just one sustained, odd note. Suga kisses the tips of Daichi's fingers, mouth open and the tip of his tongue on each callous, and he tastes the stench of metal and smells it, but also smells Daichi's cologne. "I love you, Daichi - _please,_ " Suga breathes, "I want to hear it all, but I really need to kiss you right now."

(The misplaced note blends into another, completing the cadence in a bitter-sweet major).

Daichi smiles as wide as his lips will stretch, wiping his thumb across Suga's cheek before he whispers, "Wait," with newfound mirth. He leans back and the bed springs groan beneath him. He plucks a string twice before he sets along his steady rhythm once more.

" _Will you be the fingers in my hair? Will you be the love that I share?_ " And after each line, Daichi looks to see Suga and his tear-clumped eyelashes and the hickey under his chin. There is an urge in Suga's numb arms, and it is the urge to leap. It is overwhelming, as is the urge to die with these words in his ears. But he wants nothing more than that heart pressed to his (so he does not leap and he does not die, but his hands tighten over his ribs and his toes scrunch into the balls of his feet in a desperate attempt to contain).

Daichi brightens and so does his voice, steadily filling the room with a broader tone as he measures out each word he wants to emphasize. " _Will you be the pulse on my neck — and the strength in my veins that makes me kick? Will you be the hand on my heart? There's room in my soul, space for two. I see you and know that you're the one because there's no one else I'd rather have than you._ "

_Everything on the right side of I Love You equals I Love You_ , he thinks, and presses all the beckoned warmth into Daichi and his metallic hands, and sweaty collar, and fond eyes he wants nothing more than to lay bare under. He pushes all his kisses deeper in an attempt to convey the quiver of his heart, holds Daichi to his chest and sobs and says _I Love You, Daichi,_  twenty times a minute, like drawing breath. The tears on his cheeks find Daichi's, and for all Suga says, _'Sing it again,'_ Daichi never makes it more than a few words in before it all swells back, washing over Suga and the flesh of his heart.

And it takes him until morning to realize they spent the whole night awake, playing like a broken record; to realize they spent the whole night in love because  _Sing it again, Daichi,_ and _I love you._

**Author's Note:**

> [Will you be the hand on my heart?   
> The breath on my face, gaze never apart?  
> 
> The smile on mine, and the fingers entwined?   
> (Will you be the hand on my heart?)  
> 
> Will you keep my wishes whole?   
> Will you make my heart feel full?  
> 
> The last of you can finish me  
>  Each word of yours is also mine   
> All I ever want to see  
>  Is your eyes, bright, shine, (mine).
> 
>   Will you be the fingers in my hair?   
>  Will you be the love I share?  
> 
> Will you be the pulse on my neck  
>  And the strength in my veins that makes me kick?  
> 
> Will you be the hand on my heart?   
> There's room in my soul, space for two.  
>  I see you and know that you're the one   
> Because there's no one else I'd rather have than you.]


End file.
